Vacations with Voldemort, by Gilderoy Lockhart
by SpoilerFoiler
Summary: The best-selling tale of the true story of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's defeat, written by yours truly, Gilderoy Lockhart, five time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Gilderoy Lockhart, or anything associated. Harry Potter is the sole property of J. K. Rowling.

Prologue: An Author's Note, by the One and Only Gilderoy Lockhart

It is with great pleasure that I, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin (First Class, contrary to what some nasty liars may have you believe), Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award, and author of best-selling literary works including _Break with a Banshee_, _Gadding with Ghouls_, _Holidays with Hags_, _Travels with Trolls_, _Voyages with Vampires_, _Wandering with Werewolves_, and my very own autobiography, _Magical Me_, proudly present to you my most recent book: _Vacations with Voldemort!_

After suffering a minor inconvenience in the form of a memory charm during my epic battle against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself, I, Gilderoy Lockhart, have recovered. (Do not take my lack of use of his name for fear on my part, dear readers. Nothing frightens Gilderoy Lockhart! I do, however, understand that not every witch and wizard shares my tremendous valor, and many of you may already find yourself frightened by this tale.) And now, I am ready to present my tale of my bold, brave, courageous, and daring seven year quest to vanquish the dark wizard who has plagued the wizarding world. I understand, of course, that you are shocked to hear that it took me a whole seven years to slay him.

"Oh, Gilderoy, I was certain that you could wipe the floor with You-Know-Who in mere seconds!" you must be saying. This is true, of course. The fact of the matter is that I, Gilderoy Lockhart, am an incredibly kind and generous wizard, and I chose to be fair and give He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named a fair and sporting chance against me.

Now perhaps, dear readers, you are confused. You may have heard that a less-talented, unknown wizard by the name of Harry Potter was responsible for defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. This, however, is a lie. It was none other than I, Gilderoy Lockhart, who defeated the dreaded dark wizard. You probably expected this. After all, who else besides I could possibly be talented enough to defeat You-Know-Who? Nobody, of course!

The truth of the matter is also the story behind the condition that kept me from telling this tale sooner. You see, Harry Potter was nothing more than a bystander during the duel. He is a talentless wizard, except perhaps for his skill in memory charms. Mere moments after I vanquished He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Harry Potter obliviated me, and took the credit for my victory! Yes, yes, I know what you are thinking. What kind of nasty, unattractive person would stoop so low? Fear not, however, for I, Gilderoy Lockhart, have returned, my memory fully recovered. And now, I present to you the true story of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's downfall. So without further ado, I give you: _Vacations with Voldemort_.


	2. Questing with Quirrell

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Gilderoy Lockhart, or anything associated. Harry Potter is the sole property of J. K. Rowling.

Chapter One: Questing with Quirrell

It all began in the summer of 1981, when I, Gilderoy Lockhart, returned to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the first time since my graduation. My avid fans will recall that I was not given my position as Defense Against the Dark Arts until 1992. It was during my time at Hogwarts that my talent caught Albus Dumbledore's eye, and I eventually chose to once more grace the school with my illustrious presence and pass on my knowledge to future generations of witches and wizards. (This is not to say that I was not already deserving of the position. Dumbledore was well aware of my great talent, for how could a less talented wizard not know of me? I merely mean that my return to Hogwarts was my inspiration to take the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.) After all, it will be a sad day when I pass on, for where will the world be without Gilderoy Lockhart? Alas, even I shall not live forever, though I have no doubt that my award-winning smile will be remembered for centuries.

That year, you see, I led the Dark Force Defense League in an investigation of Hogwarts School. This is not uncommon. I was made the leader of the league because I have by far the most experience, talent and good-looks. (Some of our better members are Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt, both of whom became decently skilled wizards by choosing to emulate me.) I had been spending the summer investigating some dark going-ons, for I suspected that evil was afoot, no doubt I had foreseen this due to my talent as the last seer in all of Europe. Indeed, I had already deduced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's plot to return to life, using nothing more than my own cunning mind. I immediately began to prepare for my investigation and interception of his plans. This was my duty, and for a long time I had been detecting dark wizards and bravely fighting against them.

For more information on my last defeat of a dark wizard in 1945, see _Gallivanting with Grindelwald_.

I first caught wind of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's plan while in Little Whinging, Surrey. I had traveled there to defeat a monster terrorizing the town. I found the monster in a quaint muggle building called a "zoo", terrorizing the muggles. I found the beast looming over a small child (who I would later learn to be a wizard named Harry Potter, and would encounter many more times) and his loving family. The boy stood transfixed and frozen in fear, stuttering at the monster as if he could speak to the beast- a massive snake. Not just any snake either, but a fully grown, three headed Runespoor, all the way from Brazil!

I leapt into action, whisking the boy to safety with a handy summoning charm, then I apparated to the other end of the room. Flashing my brilliant smile, I dazzled and distracted the dreaded snake, which turned from the muggles and, entranced by my dashing figure, went after me instead. I was not frightened, and with a flourish of my wand, banished the beast back to Brazil.

The boy, harry Potter, and his family were decidedly ungrateful. His uncle was too busy, furious at the boy's foolish and unimpressive vanishing of the glass barrier between the Runespoor and the muggles. Intrigued by how the Runespoor had come to Little Whinging, I investigated, and I soon came to a terrifying conclusion.

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had already put a plan into motion, and was on his way to returning to life. He had sent the Runespoor to Little Whinging to dispose of me, the only wizard he ever feared, before I caught wind of his plot. Foolish of him, for he should have known that it would take more than that to stop Gilderoy Lockhart.

I immediately headed for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's next target, Diagon Alley. There, I met with an accomplished wizard named Quirinus Quirrell. Quirrell, though nowhere near as talented as me, and certainly not as handsome, was a moderately skilled and trustworthy member of the Dark Force Defense League. Having already known that Quirrell was to become the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I entrusted him with keeping an eye on what went on at Hogwarts. Quirrell may not be as powerful as me, but I knew he was reliable and trustworthy.

It was not long before I found out what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was up to in Diagon Alley. He had sent his half-giant follower to retrieve an artifact of great power, hidden deep inside the bowels of Gringotts. Silently stalking the half-giant and the young wizard he had taken prisoner, I remained unnoticed until the fool, a novice in the field of stealth, tripped the Gringotts alarms. Goblins began to flood into the Gringotts vaults by the thousands, appearing from every corner. As the half-giant ran, I pursued him with utmost speed, fighting off hordes of bloodthirsty goblins left and right.

Fortunately, I, Gilderoy Lockhart, am also an astounding athlete, and caught up with the half-giant. I was able to witness him take his prize. It was a rather small, grubby package. You, dear readers, may not be impressed with it, but if you were able to immediately deduce what must be inside the package like I had, then you would understand its significance. I returned to the surface, fighting off all of the defenses in Gringotts. These defenses included some of the most dangerous and deadly dark creatures to ever exist, including dragons, chimaeras, manticores, lethifolds, nundus, and worst of all, Cornish pixies.

Informing Dumbledore, (though I really didn't have to, considering I am the better wizard) I volunteered to investigate and protect Hogwarts, where I had predicted He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would next target. Opting to take the scenic route, I boarded the Hogwarts Express, where I once again rescued the wizard Harry Potter, this time from the Death Eater Malfoy and two trolls. I was filled with nostalgia during the trip, reminiscing on the time before I was the world's most talented, handsome, and accomplished wizard, back to the times when I was just a modest star prodigy and the world's most handsome wizard.

At the feast, two members of staff caught my notice. The first was Quirrell, who I would count on to protect the students. He would make a reliable ally during my stay at Hogwarts. The second was the Gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid. Hagrid was, in fact, the same half-giant I had seen in Gringotts. No doubt Hagrid was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's spy in Hogwarts, and I would have to watch out for his cunning trickery.

My first month was mostly uneventful. I observed the classes, which had not changed much, though, being more experienced, I was amused to see that the professors were more simple-minded and less talented then they had seemed to an eleven year old student. The most eventful point in time was when I had been asked to help during the first year flying lessons, since I was a seeker who had once been asked to play for the national Quidditch team. (Though I declined, choosing instead to devote my life to fighting the Dark Arts). During the lesson I ended up saving Harry Potter's life when he had clumsily fallen from his broom, and skillfully caught another student's Remembrall that Potter had taken out of jealousy. Then, on Halloween, things changed.

"Gilderoy! Oh, Gilderoy, it's terrible!" Quirrell came to me looking panic-stricken.

"Calm down, my dear Professor, what's going on?" I asked, immediately snapping to attention, the epitome of seriousness and discipline.

"Troll in the dungeon!" gasped Quirrell. "Thought you ought to know." Quirrell collapsed, unconscious. So, finally, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had made his move. Thankfully, I had entrusted Quirrell with the mission of informing me if anything of notice, and he had proven worthy of my notice. I knew immediately who must have let the troll in. Rubeus Hagrid, the half-giant. I had been informed he had a certain unscrupulous relent with monsters, so it was only natural to expect that he had used that talent to lure a fully grown mountain troll into the school.

I dashed throughout the school in pursuit of the troll, which had gone from the dungeon to the girl's bathroom, where I found it cornering Potter. Before the troll could kill the boy, I gallantly vanished the beast's club. As soon as I caught the troll's attention, I struck it down with my very own anti-troll charm.

It was not until after Christmas break, during which my adoring fans sent me wonderful gifts including my very favorite brand of shampoo, that Hagrid showed his face again. I had gone to speak to my trusted ally Quirrell, and we had wandered off to the Forbidden Forest. After saying goodbye to Professor Quirrell, I encountered Hagrid on my way back from the forest. Stunned with fear, Hagrid turned and fled from me, into the heart of the forest. Pursuing Hagrid deep into the forest, I found Harry Potter standing by as a hooded figure cut down a unicorn and began to drink its blood. No doubt this sinister figure was Hagrid himself. As Hagrid turned to Potter, ready to make the witness disappear, I rode in on Firenze, my centaur steed, and whisked Potter away to safety.

Only a couple days later, however, I discerned where Hagrid headed. The realization came to me when I used my natural ability in the art of legilimency to discover from Dumbledore that the Philosophers Stone was being held in Hogwarts. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Philosophers Stone, it has the ability to turn lead into gold and produce an elixir of life. It was created by yours truly, Gilderoy Lockhart, as a gift for my good friend Nicholas Flamel.

I pursued Hagrid to the corridor where the stone was hidden, only to find the secret entrance blocked by a savage Cerberus. Transfiguring a nearby harp into a dragon (an incredibly difficult and complex piece of transfiguration that only I, Gilderoy Lockhart, have ever been able to perform) and used the dragon to distract the Cerberus as I snuck past it. Then, I was forced to fight the remaining protections place on the stone, including Devils Snare, enchanted chess pieces, and Merlin himself.

I, Gilderoy Lockhart, found myself in the room that held the stone, with none other than Professor Quirrell, who revealed that he was playing host to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. This came as no surprise to me. In fact, I already knew this. For a long time I had suspected Quirrell of being He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's spy in Hogwarts. He was simply too untrustworthy to dismiss.

"Didn't you suspect Professor Snape?" asked Quirrell.

"Professor Who?" I asked. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named then demanded that he spoke to me himself. I expect that he wanted my autograph, or perhaps a personal tutoring session in dueling. You-Know-Who was enraged that he could not find the stone. Unfortunately for him, he had no way of knowing that I had brilliantly sealed the stone inside a mirror in the school. He raised his wand; however I blasted it out of his hand and incarcerated him in ropes. He struggled, but not even You-Know-Who could escape my unbreakable rope charm. He screamed in rage as he was carted off to Azkaban.

And so, I, Gilderoy Lockhart, fabulously foiled He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's first attempt at returning to life.


End file.
